


The Benefits of Friendship

by DenaCeleste



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chris has a trucker handle, Communication, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Threesome, Fantasy Fulfillment, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Phone Flirting, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9027583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenaCeleste/pseuds/DenaCeleste
Summary: Stiles makes a very sexy birthday wish, and Peter knows just the person to help make it come true.“It--it’s really nothing. I mean, I don’t--we don’t need to actually do...it.” “Given how you smell right now, it must be something very naughty. And you have only to tell me,” Peter cajoled. “Just whisper it right in my ear, and I’ll make your dreams come true. Don’t I always?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twisted_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/gifts).



> This fic is a Christmas present for one of my sweetest friends! Originally, this was going to be a one-shot, not too long, but full of sexy times. Of course, when I plan on something short, what happens? Plot and back story, of course! 
> 
> To the incredible Twist: I hope you enjoy this first chapter and the chapters to come. <3 Thank you for the prompt, and I wish you the merriest of Christmases! I love you to bits! 
> 
> In addition, I have to thank greenie, Julie, and Cutie for holding my hand as I struggled with writer's block, and giving this a read as I freaked out. Additional thanks to Fandom Hell for always being super supportive!

“Okay, birthday boy, time for the wish,” Peter announced with a clap of his hands. Then he went and rubbed them together, and Stiles groaned, the light from the electric birthday candle winking out as he blew on it.

“Dude, no, it has to stay a secret. To come true.” Stiles fought the blush that crept over his face, but Peter took note anyway if the evil glint in his eye was anything to go by. 

“You don’t get what you want without asking, dearest.” Peter reeled Stiles in by his belt loops, watching his face and no doubt listening to his heartbeat as well. “Despite my many, many skills, I’m not a mind reader.” 

Instead of answering, Stiles tucked his face against the side of Peter’s neck with a sigh. Peter waited, patient bastard that he was, and finally Stiles conceded, “It--it’s really nothing. I mean, I don’t--we don’t need to actually do...it.” 

“Given how you smell right now, _it_ must be something _very_ naughty. And you have only to tell me,” Peter cajoled. “Just whisper it right in my ear, and I’ll make your dreams come true. Don’t I always?” 

Stiles laughed a little and rolled his forehead across the warm expanse of Peter’s skin. Man had a point, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in his belly from making several swoops as he considered what to say. 

“I really--I want--I mean, we really don’t have to,” Stiles stammered out in a small, quiet voice. “But, I mean, I’ve always wanted a, um, well--I’ve been curious about--you see--” 

“You can say it, sweet boy. Tell me anything and everything.” Peter slid his hands down over Stiles’ hips, and Stiles moaned at the way his fingers pressed into the sore muscles that hid beneath his clothes. Birthday sex had done a number, and he enjoyed every ache and bruise.

“A threesome, okay? It’s always been a--a fantasy of mine. In the back of my head, you know.” Stiles wanted to sink into the ground, but Peter refused to let him go, making an interested noise in his throat. 

“That’s more than doable, sweet boy. What were you thinking? Tell me all about this fantasy of yours.” Peter worked his magic and suddenly Stiles’ jeans were open. Peter dipped one hand into Stiles’ boxer briefs, manipulating his dick and balls with clever fingers. 

Stiles choked--on a gasp, a moan, he wasn’t sure because somehow all of his words flew away--and thrust into Peter’s hand, half hard already. 

Peter tutted at him and stilled his movements with the other hand as he nudged his thigh between Stiles’ legs. “Uh-uh, first you speak. Then you get rewarded.” An undulating press of that well placed hand was gentle enough to send a shiver down Stiles’ spine, but wasn’t the real reason the words stopped in his throat. 

He rocked his hips, seeking more contact rather than pleasure, and Peter seemed to sense that despite all his protestation about mind reading. He got Stiles more securely onto his thigh, though he still didn’t quite face Peter head-on, and then pulled his shirt off over his head, Stiles’ shirt following soon after. Their sides met, skin to skin, and Stiles relaxed enough to start speaking.

“Want to be overwhelmed. Touched and taken and--and…” he trailed off, his last words mumbled like embarrassing marbles in his mouth. 

“And what, dear heart?” Peter plunged his hand back into Stiles’ underwear and gave a couple of teasing strokes. He made a face, then took a moment to tuck the waistband under Stiles’ balls. “There, that’s better. Now, what was that? Taken and…?” 

“Used!” Stiles snapped. A flush burned its way from his chest to his eyebrows, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“No no no, don’t you hide from me.” Peter’s voice was as dark and airy as a shadow, and twice as scary because Stiles knew what it meant. 

He’d intrigued his lover, and now it might actually happen. Why couldn’t he have just wished for a cat? That would’ve been easier. Funnier. Less...frightening. 

“Anything else, baby?” Peter mouthed at his neck, and Stiles let his head droop to give him better access. “Tell me,” Peter whispered, the words full of power against that vulnerable part of Stiles’ body. 

Stiles trembled in Peter’s hold. He was hard, so hard, and Peter took advantage of that, gentling his strokes until Stiles humped up into his grip as best he could with his movements restrained by the jeans tugged low on his hips. He lifted his head enough to glare desperately at Peter, gaze locked onto pleased blue eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Words poured out of him after another minute of that torment. “Want to feel good, and make the people I’m with feel good. Be held between you and someone else. I want to be filled up and--and overwhelmed. I want my brain to go quiet because the pleasure is too much. And even when I’m an exhausted puddle, I want you both to keep going, taking until I have nothing left to give.” He stopped, panting, a low whine sounding in his throat. 

Peter grinned, delighted, and everything in Stiles yearned for him. “Oh, you sweet, perfect little slut.” Stiles jerked at the word with a broken, high-pitched gasp, and precum leaked out of him. “I know the perfect person to help me wreck you.” 

Peter barely touched him now, his hand brushing against the skin of Stiles’ cock here and there as Stiles squirmed with desperation, and finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please!” 

“Please, what?” That innocent question, as if Peter had no idea why Stiles might be begging. At this point, he couldn’t even complain about it, he just...he _needed_ too much.

Tears and desire burned in him, trapped and aching for an outlet. “Please, more, Daddy!” 

“Mmm, I do like it when you call me that. My sweet boy. So desperate.” Peter licked across Stiles’ jaw, and nipped at the edge below his ear. “Come on, then. Make a mess, sweetheart. You’ve been so good, let’s see it.” 

Peter switched up his strokes, purposeful now, and Stiles groaned deep as his stomach clenched, and streaks of pleasure shot through him as he came all over Peter’s hand, a few drops splattering the floor as Peter murmured praise in his ear. 

Stiles collapsed against Peter, out of breath but sure his Daddy would keep him from falling. He scrunched up his nose when Peter wiped the mess onto Stiles’ underwear-- _while he was still wearing them_ \--but his complaint was more of a rough grumble than actual words. 

Peter hauled him up in a bridal carry and plopped him on their bed, tugging his jeans and the now-ruined underwear off as he went, and wound up with a very naked and melty Stiles. “I’m going to get your cake. I’m sure it feels neglected, since we got a little distracted by your delicious wish. I think this calls for some bedtime hand feeding.” 

He bussed Stiles on the forehead and left the room before he could respond with more than a happy purr, so he sprawled out, belly down and ass pointed towards the door. He drifted on the warmth of his orgasm, trying to ignore the nerves that vibrated through him at the thought of Peter making his fantasy come to life. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stiles have a talk about their future threesome. Then, Peter makes a call while Stiles listens in and eventually joins the conversation. After that, Stiles and Peter make out on the couch, because why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to my dear Twist! Here's chapter 2 to help kick it off! *grins* I hope you like it! (And the fact that there should be at LEAST 2 more chapters...if not more...because somehow this keeps getting bigger, hehe.)
> 
> Many thanks go to Cutie for her constant inspiring enthusiasm! And my eternal gratitude to greenie for looking this over and giving it a quick beta! <3 Love to both of you!!
> 
> Note: The entirety of my knowledge of long-haul truckers and nicknames and all that jazz...comes from vague recollections of Smokey and the Bandit. So. Um. [hand wavey magic]

“So, I’m going to call Chris.” Peter announced, then proceeded to clap Stiles on the back, carefully, as he choked on part of his waffle. 

“You--who--you mean your ex, Chris? The, um, truck driver-slash-hunter that sends you nature shots every few months?” Stiles wiped the sticky syrup from his mouth, then licked at his fingers. “Why? Well, I know why. I mean, why him?” 

“I thought you wanted a threesome, sweetheart.” Peter raised his brows when Stiles groaned. “What? You don’t really want it?” 

“No, I do, I mean, sort of?” Stiles shoved another bite of waffle in his mouth. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m not, like, thrilled to be in this relationship. Or satisfied. Or whatever.” 

Peter snorted. “Of course you are. So am I. Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun here and there. And Chris, well, he isn’t going to interfere in our relationship.” He popped a carefully syrup-drizzled piece of waffle into his mouth. 

“How do you know?” Stiles shrugged and frowned down at his plate, then grabbed a piece of Peter’s bacon. Peter growled, so Stiles chewed with an obnoxiously open mouth. 

If all else fails, distract them from probing at your tender spots. 

Sadly (or happily, but you had to catch him on the right day to ask which), Peter knew all of Stiles’ insecurities. 

“First because I love you,” Peter said, and cackled when he managed to snatch the half of the bacon Stiles hadn’t eaten yet. “Yes, even though you are a bacon thief. Second, this isn’t to fix something. This is about fulfilling a fantasy. I know you’re mine. You know you’re mine. He will very clearly know you are mine, if the hickeys are anything to go by. And that I am yours, same reason.” 

Stiles blushed when Peter stroked at the love bite clearly outlined just below Peter’s collarbone. Stiles had a fading hickey on his inner thigh that really needed to be refreshed. It wasn’t sore at all anymore, and he enjoyed pressing his thighs together and feeling it there. 

“Also, he’s not--” Peter paused now, his expression a bit more serious, and Stiles tucked his fingers into the crook of Peter’s elbow, rubbing his thumb along the light hair that dusted his forearm. 

After a couple minutes of silence and a deep breath, Peter continued. “Look, he and I didn’t break up badly or anything like that. He just, he really wasn’t ready to get into a relationship. He wanted fuck buddies because, well, he had his reasons. I needed more than that, and it didn’t work out. But we stayed friends, and as you said, he sends me pictures every so often of some of the prettier areas he comes across.” 

“I’m...not sorry that it didn’t work out, because I’m a little happy about having you as my very own,” Stiles began, and swung his leg until he could hook his ankle around the back of Peter’s leg, “but I’m sorry you were hurting.” 

“Well, I would hope that you’d be more than a _little_ happy,” Peter complained, leaning in to lick a sticky spot from Stiles’ cheek and giving a sharp nip while he was there that sent tingles down Stiles’ spine. “And anyway, it’s worked out really well. But I thought I would give him a call, see if he’s driving anywhere near our area and would be interested in a dalliance.” 

“‘kay, well. I mean. If you’re good with it. And if he is, of course.” Stiles tried to steal another piece of bacon, but Peter slammed his hand over it before he could. Which served to break the bacon into smaller pieces, and Stiles managed to steal some anyway, cackling maniacally as he shoved the bits in his mouth. Peter flashed his fangs and bright blue eyes, and Stiles made a face at him.

Peter shook his head and let it go. Weird for him, since the dude knew how to hold a grudge, but Stiles wasn’t going to question it. Once they were done with the dishes, Peter grabbed his cell from the coffee table, and flopped back onto the couch. Stiles curled up next to him and listened to the phone ring. 

“Hello?” That voice, holy fuckballs. Deeper than Peter’s, a little rough, and it hit him low in the belly.

Stiles fought down a shiver, but didn’t think he managed it, if the smirk on Peter’s face was any indication. 

Peter purred into the phone, “Hey there, Big Silver, you got a minute?” 

“For you, Scruffy? Maybe two or three.” 

Stiles snorted and buried his laughter into Peter’s armpit. Well, he did, until Peter reached over and lightly popped him on the ass. _Ow_ , he mouthed, still chuckling but trying to look offended, and Peter winked at him. 

“Still there? Scruffy.” There was laughter in that voice, laughter and sass for days. Stiles couldn’t wait to meet this guy in person. 

“Don’t call me that,” Peter said, scowling. “You know I hate that nickname.” 

“Hey, you were the one trying to grow a beard, and _failing_. I can’t help it if it’s also related to canine naming conventions.” Chris sounded innocent, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. That was over a decade ago. Anyway. How’s it going?” Peter clenched his hand in Stiles’ shirt, then smoothed away the wrinkles. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over, but Stiles didn’t mind. In fact, knowing Peter’s gestures, his needs, and that he didn’t deliberately hide them away, made Stiles feel all warm and gooey in his chest. 

"Not bad, same old shit. You?" 

"Pretty good. Got a hot guy and a clothing optional house. Who could complain?”

“Well, if memory serves…” Chris trailed off. 

“Ha ha, fuck you. How's your kid?" Stiles found his mouth covered lightly by Peter’s hand when he howled with silent laughter. He blinked at Peter, then licked his palm. 

"She's in France, at the moment. Just got engaged a month ago. You miss the Facebook announcement? Here I thought you cared, Peter, I’m hurt." 

“Sorry, I was _busy_ having a life. Also, a lot of great sex. Speaking of, how would you like to join us? I mean, if you’re anywhere nearby…” Peter trailed off and the silence at the other end was heavy enough for Stiles to feel it. 

“Join you...for sex? Because you know I don’t do boyfriends or girlfriends anymore.” The caution in his voice made Stiles want to reach out and hug him. 

“Sex, maybe food afterwards because it’s not like I’m gonna starve you. My boy here made a birthday wish and I will need some assistance in making it come true. Given his requests, well,” Peter chuckled, “you were the first one to come to mind.” 

“Really? Requests? Tell me more.” Chris sounded intrigued. Then there was the hushed rustle of fabric, the unmistakable sound of a zipper. 

Stiles fought down a blush, and blurted, “Are you getting naked?” He gasped and covered his mouth, as if that would call the words back. 

“Well, hello there,” Chris drawled. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” 

“I’m Stiles, but if you’re connected to Peter on Facebook, you probably knew that,” Stiles said. Because when all else fails, sarcasm never does. “And you didn’t answer my question, come to that.” 

“You and I both know he’s more careful than that,” Chris pointed out, then made a growly moan that sounded downright dirty before letting out a lengthy sigh. “And I’m not quite naked. Why? This gonna be _that_ kind of call?” 

“No! No. I mean. No?” Stiles hid his face under Peter’s arm again while the man laughed at him. 

“Aww, I think you’ve embarrassed him, Chris.” Peter patted him on the hip, which was all well and good, but then he moved it to right over Stiles’ dick, which was…

Well, better, but also worse, because the prickle of heat in his cheeks just got more intense, and he couldn’t lower the volume on his sex sounds. Which was one of many reasons they chose against apartment living. 

“He as pretty as he sounds? Because I’m getting a picture in my head...” 

“Prettier. These eyes you wouldn’t believe, which he can use to devastating effect. And his hands are so pretty, especially when he’s doing naughty things with them. Speaking of dirty, the _mouth_ on this one--” 

“Hey, I’m still here!” Stiles piped up, coming out of hiding because he couldn’t let them go on about him. Not like that. The mix of Peter’s complimentary words and Chris’ approving little moans set something squirmy to life in his belly, and it was somewhat uncomfortable. More than a little thrilling, he could admit to himself, but mostly strange and discomfiting. He swallowed hard, and Peter cupped his jaw, rubbing a thumb gently across Stiles’ cheek.

“I figured. Well, I mean, we can talk about the details when I come up, I guess. Probably would work better that way, anyway. Lemme just,” Chris grunted and then the swishy sound of pages being turned came through. “I’ve got a load to deliver in Vegas for tomorrow, but...looks like I’m clear for the weekend. That work for you guys?” 

Stiles nodded at Peter, who spoke for both of them when he said, “We look forward to you coming, then.” 

Chris barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet! Okay boys, then I’m going to let you go for now. You can text me your address, and I’ll call you when I finish this job up. That way I’ll know about what time I’m gonna show up. Enjoy the rest of your day.” 

Peter’s eyes glinted as they met Stiles’ gaze. “Trust me, we will.” He ended the call and placed his phone back on the table without looking away, but Stiles pointed at him. 

“Uh-uh! You get that look off your face right now. I swore I’d get some things done for work today, and I’m going to do it.” He extracted himself from Peter’s embrace, but got trapped by a foot hooking around the top of his calf, just below the sensitive bend of his knee. “I even made a To-Do list.” 

“Do you have to? I mean, couldn’t you use, say, an hour to unwind and...limber up? It’d be good for your circulation, I’ve heard.” Peter nudged him closer. “Those desk jobs can be surprisingly dangerous.” 

Stiles cocked an eyebrow at him, but let himself be drawn in. “Only an hour? Peter, you’re slipping.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Peter sighed, voice full of promise, “I can pack a lot into an hour, and you’ll get to work without so many... _distractions_ on your mind.” He traced a finger down the front of Stiles’ pants, and Stiles almost choked on his next breath. 

“Well,” Stiles drew the word out, pretending to think about it as Peter herded him ever closer. “I suppose it would make me more efficient to not be so horn--eeyah!” Stiles yelped as Peter reached out and yanked him, tumbling on top of the man, all flailing limbs and splutters. 

“Can’t waste time,” Peter teased as he situated Stiles in his lap with sure hands before moving them in a decidedly inappropriate direction. 

“No, wouldn’t want to do that,” Stiles agreed. He wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck and settled himself with a playful wiggle of his hips and a good-natured smile.

“I think we’ll start with these muscles here,” Peter suggested, and Stiles melted from the grip Peter had on his ass. Breathless giggles transformed into pleading moans with every teasing nibble and lick at his mouth, until Peter gave in and Stiles lost himself to the sumptuous kiss. Desire raced between them in scent and sound and touch as Peter controlled their grinding hips and any thought beyond that moment faded in the face of such decadent pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come flail with me on [Tumblr](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com) and/or [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/denaceleste)! And follow me on [Instagram](http://www.instagram.com/dena_celeste)!
> 
> Join us in the multi-fandom paradise of Fandom Hell on Discord by clicking [here](https://discord.gg/7Sa4b4D)! Don't forget to check out the Read-Me and Hear-Ye-Hear-Ye channel for rules and such. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come flail with me on [Tumblr](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com) and/or [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/denaceleste)!
> 
> Join us in the multi-fandom paradise of Fandom Hell on Discord by clicking [here](https://discord.gg/7Sa4b4D)!


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